


Extra Ordinary

by tunamayo



Category: Free!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Frottage, M/M, Married Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 16:10:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16790305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tunamayo/pseuds/tunamayo
Summary: The first thing Makoto notices is the sound of his own name. It’s quiet and distant, floating through the air and landing softly at the edge of his consciousness. A second time, louder with more force, but still retaining its delicate intent. Haru’s voice, he realizes happily. Concluding that it’s something worth waking up to, Makoto opens his eyes to darkness and can tell it’s much too early to be up.It's Makoto's birthday, and spending another day with Haru is all he needs.





	Extra Ordinary

The first thing Makoto notices is the sound of his own name. It’s quiet and distant, floating through the air and landing softly at the edge of his consciousness. A second time, louder with more force, but still retaining its delicate intent. Haru’s voice, he realizes happily. Concluding that it’s something worth waking up to, Makoto opens his eyes to darkness and can tell it’s much too early to be up.

Some sort of mistake, then. A dream, perhaps. 

He closes his eyes to let his dream continue uninterrupted. But he swears he can sense the weight of Haru in bed beside him, his toes lightly grazing Makoto’s leg. And he swears he can hear him calling out his name a third time, more sternly and with just the smallest hint of impatience creeping in. 

And then he knows he feels Haru’s hand slide into his own, the two hands resting next to his sleeping face. They fit together perfectly, fingers intertwining naturally and predictably like a recurrent reflex. It’s a wonderful familiar warmth, the smallest touch that wraps around Makoto like an enormous blanket and makes his whole body tingle. 

It’s not a dream, after all. That touch is real.

Makoto smiles just a little but refuses to open his eyes again. “Haru-chan,” he manages to sleepily mutter. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s your birthday,” Haru replies, as if that’s all the explanation he needs.

“Mm… Happy Birthday,” Makoto mumbles.

The response elicits a surprised laugh from Haru. “I’m supposed to say that. Happy Birthday.” He leans closer to place a kiss on his forehead. When it’s met with little more than a confirming grunt from his tired and stubborn husband, he continues. “Don’t you want to wake up? Hm? I’ll make you pancakes.”

“Now? But it’s nighttime,” Makoto slurs. He peeks through his eyes just to make sure. It’s definitely dark.

Haru suppresses another laugh at his confusion. Ever since they were kids, it’s always taken Makoto a little while to become fully awake and aware of things. It’s a trait that has only gotten cuter as they’ve gotten older. He lightly kisses his forehead. “No, it’s just early. I’ll let you sleep a little longer.”

Makoto smiles, tired but doing his best to show how happy he is waking next to Haru, and drifts back asleep.

* * * * *

It’s sunny.

That’s Makoto’s first thought as he wakes up, warmed by the sun’s rays that sneak through the blinds and quietly keep him from sleeping in too late. Instinctively, he turns to face Haru, but Haru isn’t there. That’s right; he woke some uncertain time ago, which means it’s some uncertain time now, and smiled as he wished Makoto a happy birthday—of that, Makoto is certain.

He turns back to the window and notices the blinds are open a little, concluding that Haru must have done it so that as the sun continued its morning ascent, the light might naturally wake Makoto. Or maybe he had just noticed what a beautiful day it was and wanted Makoto to see it first thing. 

He does love sunny days, and though the middle of November is just as easily full of cloudy ones, he feels lucky to see a clear blue sky today. His smile widens as he remembers that those big bedroom windows spanning across the bedroom wall were almost the reason he and Haru passed on buying this house.

It hadn’t been an easy task to find a house that ticked every single deeply detailed box on Haru’s list of things he was looking for. “The windows in the bedroom are too big. They nearly take up the whole wall.” That had been his flimsy reasoning, and he left it with Makoto as he walked briskly through the living room on his way out the door.

Makoto followed closely behind and told him to stop and close his eyes, wrapping his arms around him and speaking softly so as not to disturb the memories that still lived there in the emptiness.

Haru grunted, annoyed, but kept his eyes shut, turning around in Makoto’s arms to face him. “What are you doing?”

“Just forget about the house for a minute,” Makoto replied, closing his eyes, too. They stood still, holding each other in silence, until Makoto spoke again. “Do you remember when we were kids and I fell in the sandbox? We weren’t good friends yet, but you reached out to help me up.”

It was one of Haru’s earliest memories of Makoto. The other kids had rushed off in excitement, none of them looking back to even notice Makoto had tripped and fallen. Haru considered it the starting point of their closeness. It wasn’t the first time they played together, but it was at that moment Haru was determined to protect Makoto in every way.

He nodded against Makoto’s chest. “I remember.”

“I think that was when I really started loving you. And I never stopped.” Although Haru couldn’t see him, he knew Makoto was smiling, just by the way his words left his mouth, light and fluttering. “The older we got, the more that love transformed. And now here we are, married, and on our way to growing old together. Haru—“

“Makoto,” Haru interjected, opening his eyes to look up at him. It was unusual for him to cut off Makoto’s words, but he needed him to know he arrived at the conclusion himself, albeit with some gentle prodding. “I get it. And I know. I would be happy living anywhere with you.”

Makoto met his eyes and squeezed him a little tighter. “This is a perfect house, because we’ll be together. That’s what makes it special. So forget what’s missing, and just picture us sleeping in on weekends in that big bedroom with the light coming in through the windows, and painting those awful gray shutters a nice pale blue, and right here in the living room, we can dance—well, maybe after a couple glasses of wine.”

To exemplify, Makoto swayed back and forth with Haru, both of them immediately breaking into laughter. Their laughter filled up the emptiness, enriching it with the start of many new wonderful memories they would make here.

Makoto holds his hand up over his face, watching the silver band glint in the sunlight. The day he got this ring was even longer ago than that, and he never grows tired of seeing it shine. He smiles and throws back the covers, supposing it’s time to get out of bed. Though there’s nothing too concrete planned for today, wasting another minute in bed without Haru sounds entirely unbearable. He quickly slips on a pair of socks to combat the autumn chill before making a quick stop in the bathroom.

It’s completely silent in the house except for the sound of running water flowing over the freshly picked broccoli from the garden. As he shuts off the sink, Haru feels Makoto’s arms circle around his waist. They fit so perfectly around him, they always have, warm and strong, gentle but protective, a fortress made of flowers. He gives the strainer a final shake to dispel as much water as he can and sets it on the counter beside him.

“Good morning, Haru-chan,” Makoto says, pressing a kiss against his temple. “I’m ready for my pancakes.”

Haru lightly elbows him in the stomach. “You’re too late for that. It’s almost lunch time.” He takes a piece of broccoli and brings it over his shoulder as a compromise, which Makoto happily accepts. “I was out in the garden while you were busy sleeping all day. I thought you might sleep through your entire birthday.”

“I wouldn’t miss my birthday dinner!” 

“Who says I’m making you dinner?’

“You! You said it, exactly… nine years ago, actually,” Makoto laughs, knowing full well that Haru remembers but never letting the opportunity to relive it pass him by. “It was our first year in Tokyo. My first birthday dinner. We were eating and you got suddenly emotional—“

“Stop.”

“You were so happy I complimented your food—“ 

“There’s no need to repeat it.”

“As if I didn’t always compliment your food—“

“Go take a shower or something.”

“You looked at me and quietly promised you’d cook for me every single year after that. You were so sincere and your face was bright red. We weren’t even dating yet, remember? You got up to go get some air on the balcony, and I came out with you, and we just stood there, looking out at that scenery we never thought we’d be able to get used to, but we did. A little bit. Over time. Together.”

Makoto notices Haru has gone silent, his hands resting on the edge of the sink, and fears he embarrassed him too much with his sentimental remembrance, so he’s relieved when he sees the small smile on his face. He gives Haru a squeeze before removing his arms from his waist.

“Fine,” Haru says, doing his best to keep his smile from growing but utterly failing, “I guess I’ll make you dinner. For tradition sake.”

“Thank you, Haru-chan. I’m just going to take a quick shower.” As much as Makoto would like to stand there and talk more with Haru, it is late, almost noon, so he should be a little more productive. Sometimes it’s hard to figure out where their days together go, how the hours pass by so fast even when time itself seems to stop.

“Oh, I’ll join you in a minute,” Haru replies, a combination of feeling a bit dirty from working out in the garden and a bit excited about the prospect of showering together. “I’m just going to put these in the fridge.”

Makoto smiles in approval and gives him one more kiss on the cheek before heading back to their bedroom. Showering together isn’t entirely unusual for the two of them; seeing each other naked even less so. But no matter how long they’ve been married and how incredibly intimate they’ve been, Makoto can’t help but feel a rush of giddiness. 

Haru sets aside one head of broccoli for the fridge, while the rest go into a big bag in the freezer to join the strawberries and green beans that were left over from summer. Though neither of them had any experience growing fruits and vegetables, their garden had been successful—by their own standards, anyway—with its bright berries and lush greens. If nothing else, it at least looked nice, complementing the full blooms of blue and purple hydrangeas.

When Haru’s finished cleaning up, he gives the sink a quick rinse and heads to the bedroom. Strangely, he doesn’t hear the running water of the shower. He smiles imagining Makoto, despite all the sleep he got this morning, being enticed by their bed and all its fluffy pillows. 

What he wasn’t expecting was to walk through the bedroom doorway and see Makoto sitting on the edge of their bed, typing on his phone, completely naked aside from his orange and white striped ankle socks.

Makoto hadn’t noticed Haru’s footsteps, but he quickly turns to face him when he hears the small laugh, having forgotten that he got distracted while getting ready to shower. He makes no effort to cover himself; the only embarrassment he feels is from the old thin socks he’s wearing, ones that he promised to throw away a year ago.

“What are you doing?” Haru asks, smile persevering, as he walks over and stands in front of Makoto. His own bare foot taps the top of Makoto’s to let him know that he absolutely notices those stupid socks.

Makoto smiles and continues typing. He slides his foot out from underneath Haru’s and places it on top, as if to sheepishly acknowledge his acknowledgment. “My boss sent me an email about next week’s schedule. I just wanted to reply before I forgot.”

“Ah. I thought maybe you were sending dirty pictures to someone,” Haru teases, taking off his shirt and tossing it behind Makoto on the bed.

Makoto sets his phone down on the nightstand. “Maybe you should check your messages.” He leans back on his hands to stare up at Haru, doing his best to smirk flirtatiously, though there’s a strong chance the execution isn’t quite as good as it looks in his head.

“Oh?” Haru raises his eyebrows, his own smile never wavering. Makoto is especially cute when he’s being flirty, and the playful grin on his face just makes it even better. He takes a step forward, nudging Makoto’s legs open with his knee so that he can stand between them.

Blush tumbles down Makoto’s nose and across his cheeks, sliding all the way up to his ears. He moves his hands to Haru’s hips and leans forward, placing a light kiss just above his bellybutton. His thumbs hook the top of Haru’s pants and underwear, guiding them down his legs. The plan was to shower together, but maybe that can wait until a little later. Haru kicks the clothes away and then gets on his knees, making sure to maintain eye contact with Makoto.

Makoto’s not really sure where this is going, but with both of them now naked, he’s glad to let it go wherever Haru wants to take it. Haru quickly removes Makoto’s socks and tosses them to the side. 

“I thought you threw those away,” he says, eyes narrowing in playful admonishment.

Makoto laughs; he wasn’t expecting to be reprimanded for that right now, but he’s willing to do absolutely anything Haru asks in this moment. “I will! I’ll throw them away! Whatever you want.”

“I don’t believe you,” Haru says, kissing Makoto’s inner thigh just once before standing up. He leans close, taking notice of Makoto’s accelerating breaths, supposing his heart is reacting the same. “Makoto,” he says quietly, slowly closing the distance between their lips.

Makoto somehow suppresses his urge to move forward and kiss him. It very much feels like Haru’s in control right now, and he’s going to give complete compliance. “Yes, Haru?”

Haru keeps his voice low, moving to whisper directly into Makoto’s ear. “First one to the shower gets to set the water temperature.”

And just like that, Haru turns and runs to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. By the time Makoto is able to process what just happened, it seems like Haru has completely vanished into thin air.

“Wha—Haru!” He blushes even more, feeling his whole body get warm as it releases the excitement that was building up inside of him. He races to the door and can’t help but laugh. Just as Makoto enters and closes the glass door behind him, Haru turns on the shower. Water pours out from the shower head, and even though it looks inviting, Makoto is hesitant to step under it, knowing that Haru prefers his showers way too cool. “That was unfair!”

“Maybe. But you always set the temperature too hot.”

Makoto smiles and lets his shoulders slump. “Haru… it’s my birthday.”

“You seemed pretty warmed up a few minutes ago. I think a cold shower is exactly what you need.”

“Fine,” he says, stubbornly folding his arms across his chest and refusing to admit that Haru is actually probably a little right. “I’ll just wait here until you’re finished.”

Haru shrugs and moves underneath the water, closing his eyes and leaning his head back to wet his hair. When he opens his eyes again and sees Makoto still standing there, he starts to feel bad. Even though he knows he’s not really mad at him, he hadn’t intended for the teasing to go this far. He sighs and takes a step forward to grab Makoto’s arm, dragging him into the water. “Will you get under here?”

Before he can protest, Makoto feels the warm water wash over him and laughs. “Haru! You set it hot for me?”

“Did you really think I’d make you take a cold shower?”

“Well, I knew you wouldn’t, but I thought you deserved some payback for teasing me.”

Haru opens his mouth to let it fill up with water and spits out a stream directly into Makoto’s face.

Their laughter surrounds them, taking shape as it mixes with the steam now emanating from the water. Haru steps aside for a moment, suffocating under the heat, and sits on the white plastic stool to let Makoto wash his hair. It’s not exactly necessary, of course; he’s more than capable of washing his own hair, but it feels good when Makoto does it. He works the shampoo into a lather, gently scratching Haru’s scalp, taking special notice of the goosebumps that appear on Haru’s arms when he starts to massage his neck and shoulders.

One thing that Haru will always be grateful for is Makoto’s hands. They’re large and warm and surprisingly soft, with the ability to touch him as firmly or as gently as each particular situation requires. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall forward, succumbing easily to the warmth and relaxation. 

“I’ll give you a real massage tonight, ok?” Makoto says, removing his hands so he can gently rinse Haru’s hair under the detachable shower head.

Haru leans his head back and smiles, looking up at Makoto. There isn’t a day that goes by that he doesn’t feel spoiled being with him. Whether it’s just a small glance or a kiss on the forehead, both of which are very abundant, his husband constantly indulges him.

And as much as Makoto wants to spoil Haru, Haru wants to do the same, not just because it’s his birthday, but every day. 

When Makoto’s finished washing his own hair, Haru quickly grabs the orange bath sponge, pouring out a generous amount of Makoto’s apple-scented body wash.

“You don’t have to do that,” Makoto chuckles, though he definitely appreciates the gesture.

Completely ignoring him, Haru takes a step forward and moves the sponge over Makoto’s shoulders. “I want to,” he finally says, voice quiet, threatening to get drowned out by the sound of the water and the thumping of his heart. 

Makoto watches Haru as he rubs small soapy circles all over his wide chest and down his legs. The first night in this house, he remembers how exhausted they were from moving everything all day. They agreed to take a quick shower together before bed—a bath would have been nicer, but they agreed they’d probably end up falling asleep in the tub. It didn’t take long for things to escalate from kissing under the running water to Makoto with his hands on the wall and Haru thrusting into him, their moans echoing loudly around them in the enclosed space.

But this isn’t the same. What Haru’s doing now makes Makoto feel good in a different way, to be taken care of and looked after. It’s a different kind of intimacy, one that he appreciates just as much. Being together so long, he’s lost count of how many ways they display their love and affection, each one equally precious.

Haru directs Makoto under the water to rinse off all the soap. And after taking a much longer shower than originally intended, which usually happens when they decide to shower together, they step out to dry off before returning to their bedroom.

Picking out clothes is easy for Haru. He likes to be comfortable, whether they’re going out or staying in. He really only dresses up for dates, rolling his eyes at the way Makoto marvels at him and tugs playfully at his tie or insists on being the one to put his belt around his waist. But really, Makoto thinks Haru looks good in whatever he wears, even something as simple as the black t-shirt, blue hoodie, and black joggers he pulls out of the dresser drawer.

While he’s getting dressed, Haru peeks over at Makoto to see what outfit he’s chosen for himself. Just dark jeans and a white undershirt so far, as he stares into the closet with his hand thoughtfully on his chin. Honestly, he could stop right there and it would be fine with Haru, but it is a little chilly for just a t-shirt. Finally he pulls on an oversized turtleneck sweater, Haru’s favorite sweater, actually. It’s light gray and heavy, the knitting thick but soft, with sleeves that hang loosely down to a tight cuff. It’s more of a blanket than a sweater, especially when Haru puts it on, and it makes Makoto look extra cuddly.

“What is it?” Makoto asks, when he sees Haru staring at him.

Haru smiles, caught, and gives an unexpectedly honest answer. “I just like that sweater. It looks good on you.”

Makoto’s eyes soften and he returns the smile, wrapping his arms around Haru to envelop him in his blanket-sweater and once again proving how perfectly he fits inside his arms. Instinctively, Haru inhales and is disappointed the sweater smells a little musty and unworn, having sat abandoned and untouched in the closet for the last ten months or so. It will take a few wears for it to pick up the familiar scent of Makoto, a wonderful mixture of fresh laundry and crisp apples.

“Let’s make lunch,” Haru says. “And I’ll give you your present after.” 

The two of them head back into the kitchen where they started, while Makoto thinks about Haru’s words.

“After lunch…” he repeats. They always wait until the end of the day to give birthday gifts, so he wonders if there’s some significance to moving the event up on this unofficial timeline. Pondering, he starts to open the fridge to see what food they have left over, but Haru stops him by practically throwing himself against the door. “I’m not allowed in the fridge?!” Makoto asks, laughing.

“Don’t look in there,” Haru replies. Not only is Makoto’s homemade chocolate ganache cake sitting on the bottom shelf, but so are the ingredients for the dinner Haru’s making later on. “Just go stand over by the sink.”

Makoto laughs again but does as instructed. Admittedly, he did quickly scan the kitchen earlier for any sign of his birthday cake. Haru has gotten sneakier and sneakier with it every year, mostly to prevent Makoto from chipping away at it throughout the day and completely spoiling his appetite.

Haru starts pulling things out the fridge and sets them on the island behind him. “I was thinking soba noodles with that leftover shredded chicken from last night. I picked some broccoli and mushrooms from the garden this morning. And you can make your mom’s sesame-ginger dressing.”

“That sounds good!” Makoto replies. “Are there carrots left?”

“Ah.” He grabs them and closes the fridge to get started on the noodles while Makoto makes the dressing.

“We could grow our own ginger, don’t you think?”

“Sure, I think it’s supposed to be easy,” Haru replies, letting the noodles cook while he cuts up the vegetables. 

He can’t help but look at Makoto out of the corner of his eye every time they cook together. It’s cute how cautious he is about everything, muttering instructions to make sure he remembers what he’s doing. No matter how much his cooking improves, it doesn’t seem that he’ll ever fully trust himself. But when he does find a good rhythm, the mutterings turn into soft hums, gentle melodies that guide him. “I saw that,” Haru says, making Makoto stop what he’s doing.

“What?”

“That tiny pinch of cayenne.”

Makoto laughs; he’ll never understand why people like spicy food. “I wasn’t done! I’ll add more.”

“I’m kidding. I can always add more to my bowl. Do you need help? You seem to be taking longer than usual,” he teases.

Without missing a beat, Makoto replies, “I just kept getting distracted thinking about how much I love you.”

As Haru scoops the last of the cooked noodles into a separate bowl, the spoon falls out of his hand and clangs loudly on the counter. It doesn’t matter how often Makoto says those words. Every time he so casually slips them into a conversation, Haru finds himself completely flustered. “You’re distracting me.”

“You mean, you’re also distracted by how much you love me?”

“Just put these in the fridge to cool down,” he says firmly, gripping the bowl just as tightly as his words.

Haru’s cheeks quickly redden. There’s no stopping it. Makoto kisses them both before taking the bowl and doing as instructed. He returns to clean up his area while sneaking small glances at Haru. He moves so easily in the kitchen, like he could do everything just as easily with his eyes closed. Though Makoto’s skill level will never quite get there, he’s happy he’s at least competent enough to cook with Haru. It’s nice and relaxing and though he never thought he’d say so about cooking, it’s fun.

“Was it cold out?” Makoto asks, sitting down at their kitchen table. “The sun makes it seem kind of nice.”

Haru looks outside. He didn’t think it was too cold out, but Makoto is more sensitive to the weather than he is. “It should be ok to eat on the patio, if that’s what you mean.”

Makoto smiles. “I’m glad. This will probably be the last chance we’ll have this year.” The patio is one of his favorite things about the house, and he thinks it’s a shame they can’t use it year round. 

Haru pulls the noodles out of the fridge and adds them to the bowl of vegetables, pouring the dressing on top before mixing it all together. There was a time when Haru would taste everything Makoto had a hand in making, understandably with reservation that it was made correctly. It didn’t offend Makoto; he would have hated to ruin a meal with a mistake. But now, Haru trusts him enough not to check his work.

“What are you smiling about?” Haru asks, feeling Makoto’s eyes on him.

“Nothing. I’m just happy we can cook together.”

Haru returns the smile and nods; he’s proud of how far Makoto has come, and he’s happy he helped him get there.

Makoto opens the door to the patio for Haru while he carries their two bowls of food out to the small square table. He really did get lucky with a beautiful day, Makoto thinks. The sun shines directly on them, though they do get some shade from the overhead wooden trellis that casts latticed shadows onto the gray stone tiles beneath their feet. And although the in-ground pool looks a bit sad with its cover drawn over it, the large oak in the back of their yard is stunning with its autumn-tinged leaves stretching well above their roof.

Makoto shovels the food into his mouth as he looks across the yard, stopping only when he hears Haru laugh across from him. “What is it?”

“You know you can swallow before you take another bite.” Makoto looks at him like he still doesn’t understand what he means. “You’ve always eaten like that, like you’re afraid someone’s going to steal it if you don’t hurry up.”

Makoto laughs; his parents did always used to tell him to slow down when he eats. “It just tastes good!” It’s the same excuse he would tell them.

“Maybe you should savor it, then.”

He picks up a single noodle and nibbles the end. “Like this? Is this how I’m supposed to eat?”

“Ah,” Haru laughs. “That’s much more proper.”

“Well, speaking of proper,” he starts, reaching across the table to swipe his thumb across Haru’s cheek, “somehow you always manage to get some food on your face.”

“We’re a bit of a mess, aren’t we?”

“Mm,” Makoto concurs. “Probably shouldn’t eat outside where people can see us.”

Haru smiles and takes another bite. “I was thinking about going to the store after lunch to buy those stone tiles.”

“You mean the ones for the path to the front door?”

“Mm. I think I’ll get the darker ones.”

“That will look nice. Oh, trash bags are on sale, too.”

“I’ll pick some up.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“If you want to.”

“Of course I want to!”

Haru smiles. “Of course I want you to…”

“Good! There’s an ice cream place near the store...”

“We’ll have ice cream later with your cake.”

“Oh?” Makoto asks, a small laugh escaping his mouth as he leans forward. “There’s a cake? Would it be in the fridge? Is it chocolate?”

“Forget I said anything.” Well, there was one surprise discovered. Though, it wasn’t really hard to guess, as Haru makes Makoto a cake every year.

Makoto doesn’t press any further. It’s not really that he wants the surprise to be ruined; he just enjoys teasing Haru about his efforts to keep things a secret. “Did you want to take a nap before we go to the store?” he asks, changing the subject as he takes the last bite of food left in his bowl.

“Why?” Haru suddenly realizes how tired he is and swallows his yawn to keep it hidden from Makoto. He was up extra early today to prepare various things. A nap sounds nice, but he’d hate to waste the day with that.

“You just look kind of tired.”

“I’m not.”

Once Haru catches up to finish the rest of his food, Makoto stretches his arms across the table to link their hands, slipping his fingers through Haru’s and giving a gentle squeeze. “You worked hard today. Just a little sleep,” he says. “I’ll lie with you in bed.”

Haru gives a small smile and a small nod; of course Makoto could see right through him. They carry their bowls inside and place them in the dishwasher. Cleaning up everything else can wait until dinner tonight.

Once they’re in their bedroom, Haru folds his blue hoodie on the top of the dresser along with his pants—he hates getting too hot—and quickly gets under the covers. “Leave it on,” he says to Makoto, as he starts to remove his sweater.

“I don’t want it to get wrinkled from lying down!” he argues. He knows Haru finds it to be a nice cuddly sweater, but Makoto likes to think he’s just as cuddly in his white t-shirt. His pants are the next to go, and he starts to feel a little silly undressing so soon after getting dressed, not to mention that he won’t even be sleeping. But being in bed with jeans on is uncomfortable.

Makoto closes the blinds as tightly as he can to darken the room, though it’s mostly futile against the intense sun and the huge windows. He slides under the cool covers and moves to the middle of their bed to meet Haru, smiling as their eyes meet.

“What?” Haru asks, breaking their eye contact to set his phone’s timer. He doesn’t want to sleep too long, but he also wants to be well rested so that this detour wasn’t pointless.

Makoto kisses his forehead. “Nothing. You’re just cute.”

“Oh? What else?” Haru smiles. This could be a fun game.

“I love you.”

“What else?”

“You’re amazing.”

“What else?”

Makoto giggles. It’s no struggle to come up with a million more words to describe him. “You’re beautiful.”

“Ah, you already said that, though.”

“I said you were cute!”

“That’s the same.”

“No, it’s not! I wouldn’t call myself beautiful.”

“Did you just call yourself cute?”

Makoto laughs. “That’s not the point!”

“Well, anyway, you are beautiful.”

“Haru…”

“And cute. And amazing.” He lifts his head off his pillow to kiss Makoto, putting all his sincerity in it, from his lips that lock with Makoto's, to his fingertips that push through his soft hair. “And I love you. Now let me set my alarm.”

Makoto takes Haru’s phone and drapes his arm over his waist. “Hmm, let’s just sleep till we wake up.”

“I thought you weren’t sleeping. Anyway, last time we did that, we didn’t get out of bed until the sun started to set.”

“Actually, first we cuddled and fooled around a bit. We didn’t get out of bed until much later.”

Haru rolls his eyes. “The point is, we wasted the whole day. We can’t do that today.” It was a good day, though. The lazy ones always are. But then again, somehow, so are the ones where they have a million things to do.

Makoto leans in for another kiss, but Haru is resistant, keeping his mouth firmly shut, trying not to budge. Makoto pulls his mouth away, discouraged but not defeated. If Haru’s going to be stubborn for some silly reason, Makoto will just have to try and pull him a little more to his side.

“You’re right, Haru. Let’s not do that today,” he says, burying his face in Haru’s neck and smiling when Haru reacts to the feeling of his tongue against it. He’s playing dirty, he knows, cheating almost. He pulls away to meet his eyes. “This time we can fool around before we sleep.”

It was hard enough not kissing Makoto just moments ago. There’s no way Haru can resist an invitation this deliberate. At least it will feel more productive than sleeping. And honestly, a part of him was starting to regret pulling away from Makoto before their shower when he so clearly wanted Haru to keep going. He shows his approval by returning the kiss from before, accompanying it with his hand sliding up Makoto’s muscled torso.

Haru sits up and lightly pushes Makoto’s shoulder, urging him to lean onto his back, pleased when he gives in so easily. Together, they pull down the covers, and Haru grabs the bottom of Makoto’s shirt to pull it up over his head, tossing it to the floor, staring for a moment at the way his chest rises and falls quickly in anticipation.

One thing that Makoto just couldn’t get used to when he was swimming was the feeling of people staring at his half-naked body. Even though they weren’t looking at him with any kind of unwarranted feelings, it made him embarrassed and uneasy.

But he loves when Haru runs his eyes up and down his body. It’s the strangest feeling of vulnerability and security. To know that Haru will be the only one who sees this, and to know how much he also loves it. He lifts his hips to slide off his underwear, kicking it to the floor and opening his legs. He wants to be as exposed as he can, for Haru to see every bit of his naked body, for him to hurry up and touch him somewhere, anywhere.

“As I was saying…” Haru smiles, kneeling next to him. “You’re beautiful.”

They both immediately break into laughter, faces going equal shades of red, less because of the statement itself and more because Haru absolutely meant it with unbridled honesty. Haru leans down to hide his blushing face and places his mouth over Makoto’s nipple while his hand finds the other, his tongue and finger working in combination with those words to elicit soft moans from Makoto. 

Somehow for Haru, using his mouth like this is less embarrassing than saying things like “you’re beautiful.”

Makoto settles for running his fingers through Haru’s hair, desperate to do something to make him give up his own small whines but unable to reach any more significant parts of his body. Makoto uncontrollably moves his hips more and more as Haru continues to lick and nibble his chest, disappointed when he pulls away much sooner than he was hoping. “Don’t stop. It feels good.”

“I can make you feel better,” Haru replies, positioning himself between Makoto’s legs. He lies down, letting his head rest against Makoto’s shoulder, while slowly moving his hips against him. He’s in no rush to finish, just enjoying the sounds Makoto’s making and the way he's getting harder beneath him.

Haru wraps his arms around Makoto’s neck, breath shuddering as his own cock pushes against his underwear. Makoto grabs Haru’s butt with both hands, guiding him to grind a little faster, to make them both a little wetter, to bring them both a little closer.

“Makoto…” Haru whines, and that’s all he has to say.

“Mm, ok.”

As their breathing becomes more shuddered, Makoto gently rolls Haru onto his side and mirrors his position. Haru puts his hand on the back of Makoto’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss—finally, they both think—tongues meeting, muffling their moans when Makoto pulls down the front of Haru’s underwear to free his cock. He takes his and Haru’s both in his hand and slowly strokes, things quickly getting more slick between them. They break from their kiss to let their voices out, looking down between them just for a moment before letting their foreheads rest against each other.

Makoto moves his attention to Haru, slowly pulling his foreskin up and then back down, wanting to ensure they come together. “You’re close?” he whispers, knowing that his long quiet whimpers mean exactly that.

Haru nods. “Make us come… Mako… to…”

Makoto opens his hand to take in both of them again, stroking faster. They repeatedly call out each other’s name, strained and barely audible, until they orgasm.

“I love you. Haru, I love you.” Makoto is always so quick to say those words after they’ve been intimate with each other. 

“I love you,” Haru always quickly responds.

They kiss again, tongues lazily circling each other while their heartbeats slowly return to normal. Makoto reaches over to grab some wet wipes out of the dresser drawer, cleaning off his hands first. “Did any get on you? Or the bed?”

He looks down at his black t-shirt, but it looks clean, then looks at Makoto and has to resist laughing. “I think it all somehow ended up on you.” He takes one of the wipes and cleans off Makoto’s stomach and chest.

“Eh, not all of it, sorry,” Makoto says, laughing a little as he uses his hand to wipe a bit off of Haru’s cheek.

“Do not even make a joke about me getting food on my face.”

He laughs harder at that. “I was absolutely thinking about it.”

“I knew it.”

Once thoroughly cleaned up, they lie back down and face each other, easily finding each other’s hand to hold. These moments after when they’re both still a little hazy and flushed are some of Makoto’s favorites. He feels lightheaded, tipsy almost, like they had too much wine, like they could dance for hours if he weren’t so exhausted.

He wasn’t planning on napping with Haru; he just wanted to steal some cuddles. But now he’s starting to feel drowsy. He pulls Haru a little closer, letting go of his hand to wrap his arm around his back, and shuts his eyes. Napping does come with its own perks, Makoto considers. It means they get to fall asleep and wake up next to each other twice in one day. And falling asleep and waking up next to Haru are two of his favorite things to do.

“Wait!” Haru sits up quickly. “I forgot your gift.”

“Surely it can wait till after we sleep.”

“No… it shouldn’t,” Haru says, further confusing Makoto with his peculiar choice of words.

Makoto furrows his brow. “Let me guess what it is first! I haven’t had a chance to.” Would it be something that requires sunlight, maybe? A solar-powered object? No, what would something like that even be?

Haru stands up and opens the blinds to let in some more light. “You won’t guess it.” Makoto tries every year but never does get it right.

“Where are you going?” Makoto leans over the bed to grab his abandoned underwear, slipping it on and starting to follow Haru.

“It’s in the other room. Sit back down. And stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting,” Makoto pouts. “Just wait! Is it a… new pillow?”

“No.”

“A candle?”

“You’re just naming things you see in the room.”

“It’s not something in the room, then? Is it headphones? New shoes! A… cat!”

Haru stops in the bedroom doorway and turns around.

Makoto’s jaw drops. “Is that it?! Did you get me a cat, Haru?! Is it a cat?”

“Just stay there and close your eyes,” Haru sighs, smiling as soon as Makoto sits down with his legs crossed in the center of the bed and does as he says. 

Makoto listens, hearing Haru walk out of their room and across the house to their spare room. He hears the door open, a pause, and then Haru’s returning footsteps getting closer and closer. The bed creaks and shifts as Haru kneels closer. And then a sound that is definitely not Haru—the tiniest little meow.

Without waiting for Haru’s instruction, Makoto opens his eyes to see Haru holding a small tan colored kitten. “Haru!”

“Happy Birthday,” Haru says, transferring the kitten to Makoto’s open hands.

The kitten mews again. “Oh my god, I love you so much,” Makoto tells her. And he does. “I love you so, so much.” He looks up to see Haru taking pictures of him with his phone, not even trying to conceal the huge smile that spreads across his face. 

“Haru, look, she fits in one hand.” He smiles wide and pets her soft little face with his finger. “Oh, what’s her name?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Honey,” Makoto says immediately. “Because of her color, and because she’s so sweet. Aren’t you just so sweet?” He brings his hand up to his face and kisses the top of her head, nearly fainting when she meows again in response.

Considering he once named his fish Fish, Fishy, Mr. Fish, and Fish-Fish, Haru thinks Honey is actually a pretty good name. “Ah, I like it. Honey.” Haru reaches over to pet her. She is very sweet. “Welcome to the family.”

Makoto smiles. He realizes that’s why Haru had to give him his present early; he felt bad leaving her locked up in a room, even though he’s sure she had food and water and probably spent most of the time sleeping. “Did she come from Manabe-san?”

Haru nods. Over the summer, a lady down the street had taken in a stray cat who was pregnant. When Haru found out she gave birth a few months before Makoto’s birthday, he asked immediately if he could adopt one to give as a birthday surprise. She had been more than accommodating, promising to hold on to the one Haru picked out until today, and dropped her off that morning.

“If you want to take her to the living room, I’ll just take a quick nap. Thirty minutes. Then we can go to the store.” Haru lies down and sets his alarm.

Makoto holds Honey up in his hands, her eyes closed and purring, undoubtedly feeling like the happiest cat in the world right then. “Look, she’s tired, too. We’ll sleep as a family.” Makoto gets under the covers and sets the kitten down on his pillow, letting her get comfortable in the space between her new parents. She circles a couple times before plopping down, eyes closing as she continues to purr. “And make it forty-five minutes.”

Haru gives her another little pet on the head, then moves past her to cup Makoto’s face, fondly rubbing his cheek. “You’re happy?”

To say he’s happy is an understatement, but he’s not sure what word could adequately describe what he’s feeling right now, so he simply smiles and nods. “Haru, thank you. This is the best gift.”

Haru returns his smile, feeling just as much whatever-it-is-Makoto’s-feeling. “I’m glad I could do something to make this day a little special for you.”

He furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Haru explains, “it’s your birthday, but we’re pretty much spending it like any other day.”

When they were kids, Makoto’s birthday was a big deal. His parents would always take him—and Haru, too, of course—to some place like the zoo or park or movies, sometimes even traveling to a different city. When he got older, he was allowed to do those things with his friends instead. But as he got older still, the importance of birthdays seemed to fade. Even his yearly birthday dinner with Haru had become completely routine.

“I see,” Makoto says. “But you know, today absolutely feels special, because I get to be with you.”

“We hardly even celebrated.”

Makoto smiles. He gets what Haru is saying, even if he’s most definitely wrong. “I just think… you’re seeing this as a normal day, but our normal days are special. Just being with you every day, whether it’s in this house or at the park or on a romantic vacation… that’s what makes me happy. That you’re there. Really, there’s nothing better than that."

It’s true, Haru realizes. He never really thought of it, but hearing it, he knows it’s exactly what he’s always thought, too. His fluttering heartbeat loudly sounds its affirmation. “We’re… wasting time for sleep.” He closes his eyes, hoping Makoto is doing the same so he doesn’t see the blush on his face.

“Let’s buy some more wine, too.”

“You want to dance with me that badly?”

“Yes. I think we should dance more.”

Haru opens his eyes to see Makoto looking at him, his green eyes glimmering with adoration. He can’t say no to that. He can’t say no to anything from Makoto, not really, not that he could even imagine wanting to. He nods and puts his hand over Makoto’s, holding on to it, momentarily mesmerized at the way the sun manages to make the silver band on his finger glow, thinking about that as he shuts his eyes.

It’s sunny.

Makoto feels the light behind him, sees it spreading over their bed. But even if the sun weren’t shining, if the sky were instead gray and cloudy, his day would be just as bright. He looks at Haru. He doesn’t think he’s stopped looking at him since the first day they met. He’s warmth and happiness and sunlight; he's extraordinary, and so is every day spent by his side.

That’s the last thing Makoto thinks as he falls asleep. 

The same as usual.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it to the end, congrats, because I learned that it's actually really hard to write a fic with no real plot! I just wanted to show what an average day would be like for Haru and Makoto because that's what I live for, so this is basically a collection of domestic headcanons disguised as a story lol. Anyway, thank you so much for reading!


End file.
